Nightingale
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. Just some fluff as the crew set Inara up in her new home on Lazarus, and some things comes to light. Not begging for reviews, but my knees are getting skinned ... Now complete but more to come.
1. Chapter 1

Jayne sank down gratefully into the easy chair, favouring the healing wound in his chest. It was his first day being allowed out of his bunk without being under scrutiny, and he was feeling as weak as a kitten. He'd been shot before, more'n likely would be again, but it never got any better. Pretty soon, he surmised, he'd have so much scar tissue bullets'd just bounce right off him. He laughed to himself, then grimaced. Couldn't be _too_ soon, as far as he was concerned.

"Uncle Jayne?" Bethany was sitting on the stairs, just able to look down at him.

"Hey there, short stub." He grinned at her. "You gonna come and keep me company?"

"Don't want to hurt you." Her brown eyes were serious.

"Can't hurt me, Beth. I'm indestructible." She gave him a version of River's _boob_ look, and he grinned wider. "Okay. Just go easy."

She smiled brilliantly and scampered down the stairs so fast he was afraid she would fall, and he wasn't going to be able to catch her, but she was surprisingly sure-footed for a two year old, and in a moment she was standing looking up into his face.

"Hello, Uncle Jayne," she said formally.

"Hi, squirt." He lifted his arm and she climbed carefully into his lap, somehow managing to avoid the area of his wound.

She looked at him, her eyes ranging across his face. "Are you dying?" she asked, her voice solemn.

"What? Who told you that?"

"No-one."

"Ain't gonna die, Bethie."

"Jethro did."

Jayne was surprised. "Yep," he said slowly. "That he did."

"Did you make him dead?"

There was a tug of something in his gut, and it wasn't Simon's handiwork. "If'n you mean, did I shoot him, no."

"Then why are you hurting?" Bethany wanted to know.

"I was the one got shot, girl!" he protested.

"Don't mean there." She laid her little hand, very gently, on the wound. "Mean there." She touched above his heart.

He stared at her. "Who's been talking to you, Beth?"

"No-one," she admitted. "I'm a baby. No-one talks to babies."

"Then you've been listening to conversations?"

She shrugged. "Not people talking."

He moved a little, feeling a little comfortable. "How'd you know, then?"

"I can see." She tapped her head. "In here."

Jayne licked suddenly dry lips. "You saw me hurting?"

She nodded. "Don't want you to hurt. I love Uncle Jayne." She laid her head carefully on his shoulder.

"You see a lot of stuff? Stuff you ain't looking at?"

She nodded, unsure now because of his tone. "Is that bad?"

"Ain't bad, squirt. Just … some folks might not like it."

"Am I bad, Uncle Jayne?" She lifted her head and he could see tears in her eyes.

"No, you ain't bad," he assured her. "But I don't think you wanna tell anyone else about this. Not yet."

"Why?"

"People don't understand. And there's some out there might … just best not to."

She trembled. "Scared."

He held her tighter. "Ain't nothing to be scared of, kid. Jayne's here."

"Is it bad? Seeing?"

He nodded slowly. "Sometimes. Best you don't try. So no peeking."

"'Kay." She lay against him, and he felt her relax a little. "Uncle Jayne looks after me."

"Always, sweetpea."

They sat quietly for a few moments, then Bethany said, "Daddy's sorry."

"What for?"

"Hurting you."

Now Jayne really did grin. "Somehow, I don't think that's the case. He's more sorry he didn't make a better job of it."

Bethany sat up and looked into his face, her eyes wide. "Daddy's not like that."

"No, maybe he ain't," Jayne conceded. "Though I don't think your daddy was exactly sane at that point."

"You and Auntie River?"

Jayne nodded. "Yeah. He kinda … got upset."

"Daddy's silly."

The big man laughed, trying to ignore the ache it set up. "Got that right."

"Uncle Jayne'll never hurt Auntie River."

"Kinda what I told him."

"I know."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "That one of the things you saw?"

She nodded. "I won't tell anyone," she promised.

"See that you don't."

"Are you and Auntie River going to have a baby?"

He stared, then laughed. "Seems to me you don't know everything, squirt."

"I like babies." Bethany smiled, cuddling back down to him. After a few minutes he felt her relax as she slipped into sleep. He envied the ease with which she did it, too.

"Is she too heavy for you?" River asked from the doorway to the cargo bay.

"Nah, she's fine. She's been keeping me company."

River stepped down into the common area. "She loves you."

"Hey, what's not to love?" Jayne joked, looking at the little girl.

River was suddenly standing next to him. "She does."

"She's just a –"

"No, she's not."

Jayne looked up in surprise. "She told you?"

"No." She slid into the seat next to him. "I've known for a while."

"So what do we do now?"

"Wait."

"For what? For her to grow out of it?"

"No. For the right time to tell Kaylee and Simon."

Jayne shook his head. "Don't think I want to be around here when that happens."

"Kaylee's already afraid."

"Oh, hell, there's no need for that." Jayne smiled at her slightly. "We'll keep the squirt safe."

River put her head onto one side. "You're a changed man, Jayne Cobb."

"No. I ain't. I'm still the ornery son of a bitch I always was."

"Really? And you'd have sat with a child in your arms before?"

"Used to do it with Matty like this all the time when he was little."

"That was before."

"_You_ been peeking again?"

River smiled. "Peeking's bad. Anyway, it was Canton that started the change."

"While you were improving the Preacher's Bible?"

"Eleven inherent metaphoric parallels …" She paused. "But you began to realise your actions have consequences. Or began to remember."

"River –"

"Charity taught you. And I'm grateful to her."

"Look, I ain't changed. Not the way you think I have."

"I _know_ you have. That boy dying ate at you."

"Still sold you and your brother out on Ariel."

"Old Jayne. Not new and improved. Your coming back for Frey proved that."

"Just wanted to kill the _hwoon dahns_ responsible."

"So did I. We're alike, Jayne."

"No, we're not." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You'll wake her."

Jayne checked. "She's fine." He looked at River. "Look, we ain't alike. But maybe it's the differences …"

"Make you love me?"

"Ain't never said that."

"Said it to Simon."

"I thought you said peeking was bad?"

"Not when it's me doing it. And you did."

"Yeah, well, I been stressed."

"That's why I'm not going to sleep with you."

The abrupt change of direction unnerved him. "Wha … I never asked you to!"

"You will. But I want to be courted."

"What?"

"Made to feel special. Romanced. Soft light. Music. Gifts."

"Bad guys' heads?"

"Maybe."

"Hell, I don't know about that kinda thing."

"Then you're going to learn."

Jayne suddenly laughed. "Can't say your bro's gonna be too happy 'bout this."

"I doubt he will be."

"So you want –"

"Yes, Jayne." Her dark eyes regarded him solemnly. "But you do have to ask permission first …"

--

Jayne stepped down carefully into the cargo bay, watching Mal moving some of the crates around. All the stuff belonged to Inara, things she'd collected in the two weeks since she'd made her announcement. Things they were on the way to Lazarus to drop off, along with the ex-Companion.

"Mal, can I …" He seemed hesitant.

Mal looked up in surprise and surveyed his crewmember. "What is it, Jayne? And are you supposed to be out of bed?"

"The doc said I could get some exercise. Long as I didn't do anything rash."

"Like upset him some more?"

"Somethin' like that." The big man fidgeted.

"Well?" Mal prompted. "You got something you want to say?"

"Yeah, I do." Jayne sat down, favouring his wounded side. "See, me and River, well, I guess, I mean, you know …" His voice trailed off.

"I know how you feel," Mal said gently. "I think the whole damn boat knows by now."

"Yeah. Guess they do. Only it's more'n that."

Mal sat back. "How much more?"

"I …" He swallowed. "Mal, I want your permission to court River."

"Court …"

"I love her, Mal. More'n I ever thought I could love anything weren't made outta metal. But she …" He stopped, unable to put how he felt into words.

"Jayne, I ain't her father," Mal pointed out.

"No, maybe not. But you're the closest thing she's got. And I know that's how she looks on you."

Mal put that disturbing image to one side. "What about Simon? Shouldn't you be talking to him?"

"I figure I know what he thinks." Jayne eased his shirt away from the dressing still on his chest.

"You really love her."

"Mal, I ain't never had anything so pure in my life before. I wanna take care of her, make life better for her."

"Kitchen knife?" Mal reminded him.

"Hell, I know she did that. And it …" He grinned suddenly. "It kinda makes it more fun."

"Fun." Mal shook his head. "How does River feel?"

"She said I hadda ask you."

Mal blew out a long breath through pursed lips. Then, "Jayne, I think you're certifiable. But for what it's worth – you got my permission."


	2. Chapter 2

Lazarus hadn't changed in the few weeks since they'd been by. The grass was maybe a little yellower, and the heat a little stronger, but the apples were still hanging from the trees, and the water in the lake looked cool and inviting. But as the crew headed towards the house, they were more than a little surprised.

"I can't believe how much they've done," Inara said, looking up at the scaffolding and the new roof.

"Can't say I think any of this is legal," Mal commented. "Prob'ly came off an Alliance site, knowing Monty."

"Are you suggesting I'm going to have Federal officers coming around demanding their goods back?" Her eyes twinkled.

"Just keep a shotgun handy inside the front door." He grinned at her, all the awkwardness gone. Their conversation, the one with the kiss, seemed to have cleared the air amazingly between them. "Nah, shouldn't think so. It's probably been through so many hands even Monty ain't sure where it's from."

"It looks very fine, though." Inara shook her head. "If the rest of the house is as good, I'll be able to move in straight away."

"Thought that was the plan anyways."

"It is. But if they hadn't … well, I _was_ going to ask if I could borrow my shuttle for a few more weeks."

"Woman, you take the cake, you do. You decide to run off on your lonesome to play at being lady of the manor, and still expect me to loan you my shuttle. _My_ shuttle, I'll have you note."

She didn't get angry. He wasn't being truly obnoxious, just pretending. "I won't be on my lonesome. I've got a housekeeper and her husband moving in tomorrow. And I can pay for the use of the shuttle."

"I could have someone lined up to take it," Mal pointed out, no heat in his words.

"Oh? Would this be the same surveyor and his wife who you dangled in front of me when I first took you on?"

"Took _me_ on?"

"You were hard work, Mal."

"You gypped me out of a quarter of the rental."

She smiled. "So I did."

Kaylee strolled up behind them. "You're not supposed to be fighting any more."

"Fighting?" Mal said, smiling. "If we were fighting this place'd be a mess."

"Blood, entrails," Inara agreed. "Very pretty."

"Well, just don't. Simon ain't in the mood to be patching anyone up." She glanced towards her husband, who was staring off towards the lake.

"Jayne and River?"

Kaylee nodded and sighed. "He's trying. Really, he is. He's just finding it gorram hard to see 'em together like this."

"Me too," Mal said, then took a step back from the two women as they turned surprised eyes on him. "No, not like that. Just that, with Jayne out of commission, it's up to me and Hank to get all that junk off my boat."

"My belongings are not junk."

"Junk," Mal said firmly. "Remember, we were around when you bought some of it."

"Well, there has to be something in every room," Inara said, waving away his objections. "Except perhaps the large room in the south-east corner. I'm considering leaving that empty."

"Why?" Kaylee asked, then brightened up. "Ooh, for parties?"

Inara smiled. "I think that could be arranged."

--

Mal humped yet another crate out into the sunshine, then stopped, stretching his back. Zoe'd tried to persuade him to buy some kinda fork-lift once before, and he'd baulked at the price, preferring to kill two birds with one stone and stick to Jayne. Now, he was beginning to regret it.

Hank dumped a box next to his. "Mal, I quit," he said sincerely. "I swear my arms are near a foot longer than they were this morning."

"You and me both," Mal agreed. "But you quit now and I'll …"

"What?"

"Give me some time to recover and I'll think of something."

Simon staggered down the ramp and nearly dropped the case he was clutching. "Gorram it!" he swore, dumping it into the dirt.

"Doc, I don't think your wife is gonna be too pleased at your language," Mal pointed out.

"Do you know how much there is left in there?" the young man asked, trying to lift an arm to point, but it hurt too much. "And we haven't even got to the big stuff yet."

"Trouble is," Hank said, slipping to the ground and leaning on the crates, "I don't think we got a choice."

Mal sat down on a box. "Nope. What with Zoe in a delicate condition, Frey not quite up to 100 percent, that kinda leaves Kaylee and Inara. And they're busy in the house dusting and the like."

"Dusting," Hank scoffed. "I'm good at that. What say we go and do that, and they can hump the stuff for a while?"

Mal shook his head. "Much as I kinda like the idea, I don't think it's gonna happen."

River walked past them, a box held high in her arms. "I don't know what the problem is," she said, continuing towards the house. "They're not that heavy."

"That's one of the easy ones," Hank called.

Jayne, sitting on a chair they'd brought out for him and making the most of the sunshine and the sight in front of him, guffawed. "She's got you beat, that's for sure."

Mal glared at him, then looked at the others. "Damn it, that's enough for the moment. I want … no, I _need _a drink."

"How does lemonade sound?" Zoe asked, coming out of Serenity with a tray full of assorted mugs and glasses. Freya was behind her.

Simon looked up. "That sounds wonderful."

"Well, thank Inara. She bought real lemons at our last stop, so this is fresh." Zoe handed them around.

"Thanks," the young doctor said with heart-felt meaning. He sipped, feeling the cold liquid ooze down his throat and chill his stomach. "Perfect." He glanced at Freya. "Why aren't you using your stick?"

"I'm fine," Freya said, holding up both hands. "Barely a limp."

"Then you can help us," Mal said, cradling the cool glass. "If you're fit enough not to use that stick, then you're fit enough to work your passage."

"I thought I did that last night," she said, smiling at him, her eyes lightly hooded.

He was glad the exertions had already made him red-faced, or he would have blushed for sure.

"Are you hanging from the support beams again?" Simon asked, straight-faced.

"It does wonders for the stomach muscles," she agreed, then laughed. "Anyway, Mal," she added, looking back at her husband, "I can't do any heavy lifting unless my doctor agrees."

"Well, doc?" Mal glared at the young man. "Frey fit to get back to work?"

Simon looked her up and down. She was so much better, but … "Not quite yet."

"Phew," the woman in question said, theatrically drawing her hand across her forehead. "Thought I was gonna actually have to do some humping."

"Thought that's what you were doing," Jayne said from his chair. "And don't I get a lemonade?"

Zoe's lips twitched and carried the tray over. "I'm not sure you deserve it," she said, holding it just out of reach. "Sitting there, doing nothing."

"Might get all dried up in the sun. 'N' I know you wouldn't like that."

"Oh, just give it to him," Mal said. "Can't bear to see him beg."

Zoe let him take a mug, which he drained in one, smacking his lips. "Shiny."

"Jayne, your manners are appalling," River said, walking back towards them. "But they'll improve."

"Lemonade?" Freya suggested, enjoying the look of consternation on the big man's face.

"Thank you." The young woman delicately sipped. "Inara remembered."

"Remembered what, honey?"

"Lemonade when I was little."

Simon looked up at her, at the wistful tone in her voice. "This is almost as good," he said softly.

"Better." River smiled. "With friends." She went and sat down next to Jayne, tucking her legs underneath her and leaning against his chair.

Simon looked away.

"Well," Mal said, finishing his glass, "as nice as it is to just sit in the sun and chat, we've still got a hell of a lot of work to get done." He stood up, then groaned as his back complained.

Immediately Freya was at his side, rubbing his spine with the flat of her hand. "You hurt yourself and I will be mad," she whispered.

He looked down at her. "Won't do that. But you may have to borrow some of Zoe's oil to give me a massage."

"Hey, no," Hank called. "That ain't fair! That ain't for you!"

"I don't need it anyway," Freya smiled. "I've got something much better." She let her hand wander down towards his buttocks. His eyes widened as she pinched him.

"As much as that sounds …" He cleared his throat of the catch that had inexplicably managed to insert itself. "That doesn't really solve our immediate problem of still having to unload all this _gos se_."

"I'll give you a hand," Zoe said, setting the tray down on the ground.

Hank was immediately on his feet. "No. No way. You are not going to do anything to endanger that little baby in there."

"He's not actually a baby yet," Simon said. "Technically he's still an embryo –"

"He?" Hank stared. "Are you saying –"

"I'm not saying anything," the young doctor interrupted. "It's just difficult to keep saying _he_ _or she_ all the time."

"So it's not a boy? It's a girl?" Hank's face was bright, like Christmas and birthdays had come all at once.

"Do you want to know?"

Hank glanced at Zoe, who shook her head. "Well, guess not." He sighed. "Unless you could kinda give me a clue?"

"Dear," his other half said, and he subsided again.

Mal hid a smile. "Now ain't the appropriate time to be asking, Hank." He nodded back into the cargo bay. "Not with what we have to do."

Freya grinned openly. "You know, I hate to watch you working so hard," she said, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "So I think I'll go help Inara." She walked, just a trace of a limp, towards the house.

"Fine. Be like that," he called. "Just remember I'll hold this against you."

"Sir," Zoe said reprovingly. "As if you would."

--

Inara moved the flower arrangement to the window, letting the sun shine through the single white flower standing in the elaborate silver vase, seven stems of green behind it. Her head slightly on one side she pursed her lips before moving it slightly. She nodded.

"That's pretty," Freya said from the doorway.

Inara smiled over her shoulder. "One of my many talents," she laughed. "I always seemed to do well in this at the Training House."

Freya chuckled. "I'm afraid my skills extend to being able to plonk some flowers in water, and if they're not dead by the end of the day I think I'm winning."

"We're all good at different things." Inara tweaked one of the green stems, then stepped back, apparently satisfied. "You've been avoiding me," she added conversationally.

"It's a small boat," Freya remonstrated. "How can anyone avoid anyone else? Unless they hide." She shrugged. "I don't think I've been doing that."

"Not quite," Inara conceded. "But you haven't been alone in the same room as me."

Freya didn't answer for a moment, just walked into the room, looking at the objects already arrayed around the walls. "That obvious?"

"Freya, I may not be a Companion in name any longer, but that doesn't mean that I've lost all my skills at reading people. It may not be like River, or yourself, but …"

"Oh, you're not wrong." She picked up an old-fashioned silver frame, holding one of the non-moving pictures. It was of a young girl, a child really, standing next to an older woman who had her hand on her shoulder. The girl looked radiant. Inara. She put it back and walked to an escritoire, running her fingers across the warm wood. "I wasn't sure I wanted to be around you."

"I know he told you." Inara watched, noting the lack of stick but the obvious limp, more than she had allowed to show when she walked up to the house, knowing Mal was still looking after her.

"Mmn."

"I'm sorry."

Freya looked up. "Are you?"

"I've never hidden how I feel about Mal." Inara sat down on the packing crate, automatically going to smooth her dress before she realised she was wearing a pair of coveralls instead, bought at their last stop. Much more practical.

"No."

"You're still angry with me."

Freya gazed at this elegant woman, still graceful even in her unusual clothes. "I'm not angry."

"Disappointed?"

"Perhaps." She sighed. "Although surprised would be a better word. Surprised you'd try again."

"I _am_ sorry." Inara held out her hands. "I don't know what else to say."

"You know he doesn't love you."

A sharp pain around her heart made Inara catch her breath. "I know."

"He will never love you. Not like that."

"Freya, I know."

"He loves me."

"Frey, I _know_."

"Good." Freya nodded. "Then that's fine. Just don't do it again."

"Or what?" A spark of cruelty flared through her. "You'll kill me?"

Freya looked at her steadily. "Yes."

"You mean that."

"Inara, I won't lose him. Not now. Not with what we've been through. I'll do anything to …" She stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, she was back in control. "You're my friend, Inara. My sister. I don't want to lose that either."

Inara got to her feet, crossing the room in a moment. She put her hands on Freya's shoulders. "You won't."

Freya smiled and stepped forward, hugging the other woman, who returned it with pleasure. After a few moments they broke apart, each slightly pink. "We don't speak of it again," Freya said.

"Speak of what?" Inara asked as a grin broke out on her face.

"Um, is this private or can anyone join in?" Kaylee asked, peering into the room. "Only I feel like I'm the only one doing any work around here."

Freya laughed. "Tell that to the menfolk out there. They were just complaining about the same thing."

Inara picked up a duster from a box on the floor. "Well, now you're here, _without_ your stick, I think you can do a little light housework."

"Hey, yes!" Kaylee said, looking at Freya. "You ain't using it!"

"Getting better every day," Freya said, smiling at them both. "Better every single day."

--

Outside Hank and Simon were competing to see who could carry the most from the cargo bay, while Mal was content with not actually killing himself.

Then, as he went to lift another crate, he saw a little figure walking out of the bay doors. He paused, watching Bethany stagger towards the house, the large green stuffed toy she called 'Jayne' in her arms. Twice she nearly dropped him, but managed to catch him in time.

Mal waited until she was a distance in front, then followed, intrigued and a little bit amused.

"Where you going?" Hank called, seeing him step out into the sunshine, his arms empty.

"You just keep working," Mal said. "I'll be right back." After I've found out what's going on, he added silently.

Bethany climbed the two steps up to the large front doors and stepped inside. Mal stayed in the doorway and watched her going up the stairs, one at a time, dragging Jayne now by the ear. At the first floor she picked him up again, dusted him down, and ambled towards one of the rooms.

Mal followed, as silently as he could, his booted feet throwing up small motes of dust that hung in the sunshine like little stars.

Bethany had gone into a corner room, facing out over the front, two large windows in each of the sides. Even from the doorway Mal could see Serenity sitting in the bright light, all gilded like she was a precious metal.

Bethany lifted Jayne up to the windowsill and sat him down.

"What are you doing, honey?" Mal asked, leaning on the doorway.

She didn't turn, wasn't even surprised at him being there. "This is my room," she stated, positioning Jayne so he could look outside.

"Your room?"

"I've got a room on your boat," she said, turning to look at him, her head no one side. "This is my room in Auntie 'Nara's house."

"You know, I don't think I can argue with that logic." Mal smiled. "So you're bringing your stuff over?" He walked into the room, visually checking to make sure the floorboards were sound and not likely to give way. Somehow, though, Bethany had chosen one of the few upstairs rooms that were actually liveable.

"Some." She went down onto her heels, leaning forward between her knees to adjust the small toy tea set that was on the floor.

"Auntie 'Nara gave you that, didn't she?"

Bethany nodded. "For when I play Comp … Comp …" She reached for the word, annoyed with herself for never being able to remember it.

"Companion," Mal supplied.

She smiled at him. "Companion," she agreed.

He smiled back, reaching down and lifting her to sit on his hip. If he and Frey were ever lucky enough to have another baby – a situation he was trying his very best to arrange – he'd like it to be a little girl. Just like Bethie.

"A little sister." Bethany snuggled against him, so she didn't see the shocked look in his eyes.

"Bethie, did you … what I was thinking …"

Now she turned worried dark eyes on him. "Sorry, Uncle Mal. No peeking." She put her face against him. "Didn't mean to. Don't tell Uncle Jayne."

"Jayne?"

"Told me not to."

"Not to what?"

"Peek."

He lowered himself to the dusty floor and gently disentangled her from his neck, sitting her on his thigh so he could look at her properly. "Can you hear people, Bethie? When they ain't talking?"

"Sometimes," she admitted. She dropped her eyes. "Sorry."

"Ain't nothing to be sorry about, honey." He smiled at her, trying to cheer her up. "Does it happen a lot?"

She shook her head, still staring down at her fingers. "Peeking's bad."

"That what Jayne said?" Mal made a mental note to have a quiet word with the big man about keeping his captain informed.

"Not Uncle Jayne's fault," Bethany said, looking up, tears in her eyes. "Don't be mad."

He couldn't help it. Seeing the little girl upset melted his heart as it always did, and he gathered her into his arms. "Ain't mad, Bethie. Just a mite worried."

Bethany gripped her hands tightly behind his neck. "Uncle Jayne said not to tell anyone. Bad people out in the 'verse."

Mal could hear the big merc's voice saying exactly that. "Yeah, well, he's right. Only he shoulda told me."

"Auntie Frey knows," she admitted in a small voice.

"Does she now."

Bethany nodded, rubbing her soft cheek against his rough one. "'Es," she lisped.

"Then I'll be having a chat with your Auntie Frey too."

Bethany suddenly giggled, her whole body vibrating.

"What's that for?" he asked, lifting her away to look into her eyes, so like her mother's.

"You don't talk much." She covered her mouth with one hand, grinning widely.

Mal felt a blush creep up his chest. Oh, yes, very like her mother. Barely old enough to run him ragged, and already she could embarrass him. He cleared his throat. "Yes, well … Bethie, what Jayne said is right. No peeking. 'Specially at me and your Auntie Frey. In fact, at anyone." He wondered idly what the legal penalty was for corrupting a very much a minor, even inadvertently.

"'Kay."

"Good. Just you remember that." He tried his hardest glare, but she just smiled at him. "Does … does your Auntie River know?"

Bethany shrugged. "Don't know."

"Well, best we don't say anything. To anyone. Not 'til I say it's okay."

Her smile faltered. "Uncle Mal, am I in trouble?"

"No, sweetie. Not at all. Can't help feeling your Pa ain't gonna be too pleased though." For some reason, a grin spread across his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Mal looked around his crew, his family, all sitting at the table for possibly the last time, and he couldn't help but sigh. Then he saw Freya glance at him, a knowing look in her eye, and he had to smile. Damn, but it was awkward sometimes being married to a psychic. Thoughts weren't even your own. She looked a little tired, though, drawn. He leaned in close to her. "You okay?"

"Fine," she said, putting her hand on his.

"Only I don't want you overdoing it."

"Okay," she agreed. "No sex tonight."

"That wasn't quite what I meant."

She grinned at him. "I'm shiny, Mal. Honestly."

"Just you stay that way."

"With you to look after me, how can I not?" She leaned forward and touched her lips to his, just gently, before turning again to the others, her gaze lingering on his as she did so.

He listened to the conversation flowing backwards and forwards, talk of the slight groin strain Simon had managed to incur – and the fact that Kaylee would probably be dealing with that later – moving into the only other injury for the day being Jayne's frighteningly red neck.

"I got delicate skin," the big man was saying. "Runs in the family."

"When're we gonna meet this family of yours?" Hank asked. "Only we keep hearing about them, but don't see 'em. Personally I think you were grown in some lab, the result of some horrible genetic experiment that went wrong."

"If I wasn't already incapacitated, I'd show you how horrible I can be," Jayne promised.

"And I'd hold his coat," River chimed in.

"Hey, I thought we were friends!" Hank exclaimed, looking hurt.

"You have been replaced in my affections," River stated.

"I am wounded. Wounded, I tell you." He grasped his chest above his heart. "Mortally, at that," he added. "I shall have to resort to my fallback position." He looked at Zoe. "Hi, honey."

Zoe glared at River. "Please don't wind him up. It'll take me hours to calm him down now."

River's laughter echoed through the dining area, and everyone felt happy.

"What's so funny?" Simon asked, limping back after putting Bethany to bed.

Kaylee patted his leg. "I'll tell you later."

"Was it at Jayne's expense?"

"Not really."

Simon sat down, glaring at the mercenary. "Pity."

Jayne grinned at him, then winced. "You know, doc, I think you were right. I'm gonna need to have something off you for this sunburn."

"Why did you sit out that long?" Inara asked. "Sure you could tell the sun was strong."

"I was having fun."

"Watching the rest of us work," Hank put in.

Jayne nodded happily. "Best time I've spent in a while. Made this worth it."

"I could _cook_ off your neck, it's so hot," Kaylee said, shaking her head. "I can almost feel it from here."

"Like I said, I got delicate skin."

Seeing Simon about to leap in with some misguided and possibly slanderous comment, Mal got there first. "_Anyway_," he said loudly. "Glad you're all here, 'cause I got something we need to talk about."

"If it's me and River –" Jayne began, but Mal held up a hand.

"Funnily enough, no." He looked at Kaylee, and his gaze softened. "Bethany."

"What about her?" Simon asked, picking up his glass to take a drink.

"She's a reader."

The water sprayed across the table. "What did you say?" Simon stared at him, ignoring the liquid soaking into his shirt and pants.

Kaylee quickly mopped up the spillage on the wood. "Oh," she whispered.

"She's a reader," Mal repeated. "Just found out today. And we've got to figure out what to do about it." He looked at every face around the table, trying to figure out just who knew, and realised only the doc really had no inkling. "I take it you didn't know," he added gently, his gaze alighting back on Simon.

"My daughter is not a reader," the young man said, glancing quickly at River then away again.

"Saying it ain't so doesn't make it that way," Mal said. "Had me a talk with the young lady today. She admitted she hears people when they ain't talking."

"She's imagining things," Simon insisted. "It's a game, just one of her made-up games." Suddenly his mother's voice came back to him, when he was trying to make them realise his sister was in trouble …_ one of her silly games … you two are always playing_ … and he pushed the memory away. "She's not a reader." He looked at Kaylee for assurance, for some back-up, but his wife had an aspect of misery on her face. "Kaylee?"

She swallowed. "I … I think the Cap's right, Simon. Things she's said, for a while now … I think he's right." She couldn't look him in the face.

"Kaylee, no …"

"I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you say something?" he asked, reaching out and taking her hand. "Why didn't you tell me what you thought?"

"'Cause I was afraid!" Now she raised her head, twin spots of red centred on tear-stained cheeks. "'Fraid of what'd happen if anyone found out!"

"You think we'd turn her in?" Hank asked, softly, his own hand gripping Zoe's. "Kaylee, you know that ain't never gonna happen."

"But she's just a baby!" Kaylee wailed. "I don't want anything to happen to my baby!"

Mal watched as Simon gathered his wife into his arms, holding her tightly as she cried on his shoulder, letting out all the worry she'd carried, unknown to them all, for a long time. "Well, that's kinda why I think we need to talk about it," he said gently. "Figure out the best way to handle this."

"_This_ is my daughter we're talking about," Simon said harshly. "Not some trade that needs to be done."

"Not saying it is, doctor." Mal wasn't going to let the young man rile him. "Just wondering what's the best way to help Bethie."

"I still can't believe –"

"The captain's right," River put in, gazing at her brother. "She's a reader."

"But …" Simon couldn't get his head around it. "But it was the Academy who … they made you –"

"Didn't make me, Simon," his sister said. "Just changed what was already there."

Freya stirred. "If you don't believe River, believe me. It's true."

Simon looked stunned. "Did … did you all know?" He stared at them each in turn. "All of you?"

"Um …" Hank began to say, but Zoe squeezed his hand.

"I don't believe this." The young doctor stood up, needing to pace. "Something like this, as important as this, and no-one bothers to tell me. Me … her _father_!" Anger was boiling inside him now.

"Simon, suspecting and having proof are two different things," Inara said soothingly.

He turned on the ex-Companion. "And that gives you the right to –"

"Simon …" Freya spoke softly, looking towards the doorway that led to the engine room. And the stairs to the lower crew quarters. Bethany was standing there in her little nightie, her Ethan doll clutched in her arms.

"Daddy?" she whispered uncertainly, then ran to him.

He swept her into his arms, holding her tight, burying his face in her long brown hair. "It's okay, honey," he said quietly. "It's okay. I'm here." He looked across at Kaylee, who was on her feet in a moment, her arms around both of them. "We're _both_ here. We'll look after you."

"I didn't mean to make everyone cross," she said softly, tears running down her face. "I won't peek any more. I promise."

"A pie-crust promise," River murmured, but everyone heard.

Simon glared at her, but Freya nodded. "It's true. Bethie needs to be taught control. How to tune things out. How not to … to peek."

"My God, she's two years old," he said, wanting to wail and gnash his teeth. "How can we put her through this?"

"Two years or twenty, it's gotta be done," Mal said. "And we ain't the Academy. We're not going to hurt her, Simon. Just protect her."

The young man stared with unshed tears into his wife's face, then nodded, turning to his sister. "River, would you –"

"No!" Freya said sharply, then added quickly as everyone looked at her, "I'll do it."

"Would you?" Kaylee asked, wiping at her eyes. "I didn't want to ask, but …"

Freya nodded. "Of course I will. It'll be fun. Won't it, Bethie?" She smiled at the little girl.

"Will we play games?" Bethany asked.

"Definitely."

She sniffed. "Then I'd like that." She wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

"Don't you have a hankie?" Simon asked.

"Daddy, I don't have a pocket," she pointed out, sounding a lot older than two.

"That's true. So tomorrow your mother is going to sew a pocket in each of your nighties," Simon said firmly.

Kaylee laughed, just a little, and some of the tension dissolved. "You can help," she said, stroking her daughter's cheek.

"After we go swimming?"

"All right. After."

Bethany smiled brilliantly. "I like learning new things," she said, then yawned, remembering halfway through to cover her mouth with her hand.

"That's better," her father said, his own lips curving. "Well, I think we'd better get you back to bed, before you fall asleep up here."

"I don't mind. Not sleepy," Bethany insisted, then yawned again, much bigger this time.

"Go on, squirt," Jayne said. "Sooner you get to sleep, sooner it's time to go play."

She nodded. "G'night, Uncle Jayne," she said, laying her head on her father's shoulder.

"G'night, squirt."

Simon carried his daughter out of the room, Kaylee following at his heels.

Mal looked at Freya. "You think you can do this?"

"I think so. Mal, if she can learn to control it now, it will become second nature to her."

"But what about the others?" Hank asked. "The ones who …"

"Hands of Blue," River intoned.

"While she's on board she's safe," Freya said.

"And when she ain't?"

"We'll look after her," Mal put in. "Like we always do."

"And when she's older?" Zoe spoke for them all. "When she wants to look after herself?"

Freya sighed. "Then we just have to hope by then she'll have learned not to say anything to anyone."

"It's a hell of a responsibility for a kid to have," Hank said, shaking his head. "Worrying about every word giving her away."

"We won't let it." Mal stood up. "It's not her responsibility alone, nor even Simon and Kaylee's. Bethie's as much a part of this family as Ethan, and we're gonna make sure she stays safe."

--

Simon sat next to his daughter as she drifted off to sleep, hugging her doll to her. He gently moved a lock of brown hair from her forehead, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Her nose wrinkled up, but she relaxed again. He stood up, turning to look at Kaylee in the doorway.

"I think we need to talk," he said quietly.

She nodded, turning towards their room. He followed, sliding the door to behind him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, trying to control the thudding of his heart.

She bit her lip. "There was so much going on … Frey, Jethro, that drug … I didn't want to worry you."

He crossed the room and took hold of her arms. "Kaylee, she's my little girl as much as yours."

"I know."

"When … what made you think Bethany was psychic?" He could feel her trembling as if she was cold.

"Little things," Kaylee admitted.

"Come on." He manoeuvred her to the bed and made her sit down, joining her, touching along her thigh and body. "Like what?"

"When … when we buried Jethro. She said River had told her he was with Alice. But I know she didn't go anywhere near your sis. And … and when Jayne got …" She couldn't finish.

"When I shot Jayne," he prompted. "It's okay. I know what I did."

"She asked if he was okay. And I hadn't told her, not even mentioned it …" The trembling got worse. "And she's so bright, asking questions all the time, wanting to learn, just like you said your sister was …"

He put his arm around her. "It's okay."

"No, it ain't." She glared up at him. "Look what they did to River, did to Freya, just 'cause they were different, had abilities others didn't … I ain't gonna have that happen to Bethany!"

Simon pulled her close. "It won't. That's what Mal was talking about, not letting it happen. _Bao bei, _every single person on this ship would give their life to stop anything like that ever touching our daughter. You know that."

"But she's so small …" She held tightly to him, so afraid for their little girl.

"Kaylee, I came for you. Didn't I? Do you think I'm going to let anyone hurt Bethie?" He pushed her away enough so that he could look into her dark eyes. "Do you?"

She managed to shake her head. "No, Simon. I know you won't. It's just …" She buried her face in his chest again.

"I know. I know." He sighed and dropped his chin to her hair.

--

"What're you doing?" Jayne asked, watching as River moved the earth around with her bare hands by the light of the storm lantern at her side. She already cleared a lot of the grass, and now was breaking up the clumps of soil, pushing it through her fingers.

"Making a garden."

"In the dark. In the middle of the night." He glanced up into the sky, all black velvet and sparkling diamonds.

"Sneak up on the weeds while they're asleep." She pushed a lock of hair back away from her face, leaving a streak of dirt across her cheek.

"Here," he said. "Let me." He stood behind her and gathered her hair up, carefully fastening it back in the clip he'd given her.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him. "Were you looking for me?"

"Just checking you were okay." He looked towards the house, quiet but for the glow from the lamps outside the front doors. "Thought you mighta taken it into your head to sleep there."

"Not yet."

"Right." He paused. "So why're you making a garden?"

"In memory of Jethro. Somewhere he never was."

"Come again?"

She held up two handfuls of rich soil, the scent reaching his nostrils. "I'm going to make a garden on Serenity, but that's for everyone. If I did it for Jethro there, I'd be remembering him all the time. Here, though, it can be outside, in the air, growing up towards the sky."

He sat down carefully next to her, hardly wincing, just resting his elbow on a bent knee. "You okay?" he asked gently.

She nodded. "Shiny," she said, smiling at him. "Just … did I sound bad?"

He shrugged. "Bit like the old River." He added quickly, "But I understood ya."

"I'm glad." She went back to the earth. "Flowers here. Sweet rosemary for remembrance, thyme, maybe some tarragon too."

"Be pretty fine, if it all grows."

"It will. As long as Inara remembers to water it."

Jayne laughed. "Don't think she'll be working out here."

"Then I'll remind her." She twinkled at him and carried on sifting.

He sat with her for a while, watching her enjoying what she was doing. Eventually he asked, "So why ain't you in bed?"

"Not sleepy."

"After today?" He chuckled. "All that man's work you were doing?"

She shrugged, a strand of hair escaping again. "That was different."

"And Bethie? I'd'a thought you'd want to be near her."

"She's got Simon and Kaylee."

"Hmn." He nodded slowly, then reached forward. "River, why didn't Freya want you to teach Beth?" he asked, running his calloused hand through the soil, feeling the fine particles slip through his fingers.

"Because of what I did." She didn't look at him, just worried at a particularly recalcitrant clump.

"What was that?"

"I killed the two men who attacked Kaylee." She spoke in a perfectly level tone, as if she had said it was about to rain.

"You …" For once Jayne was lost for words.

"I broke their necks. While they were unconscious in the alley. Snap."

"That what the Cap was talking about when they came back?"

She nodded. "I felt it about to happen, and I followed. I was too late to stop it, but watched Simon bring Kaylee home. It wasn't difficult to go across the roofs, behind Hank –"

"They weren't worth it, moonbrain," Jayne said softly.

"They were going to take Kaylee, sell her to someone who –"

"They weren't worth it," Jayne repeated. "In a fair fight, or otherwise, that woulda been okay. But like that … break their legs maybe, hell, knock out all their teeth, but … killing 'em? It wasn't worth what it did to _you_."

"To me?" She turned astonished eyes on him, dark pools in the artificial light.

"Not worth tarnishin' yourself."

She stared at him. "I'm not a precious metal, Jayne."

"You're precious to me." He wanted to look down, away, make some crude joke that would remove the meaning of his words, but he couldn't. "Don't do that to yourself."

The dark pools began to run down her cheeks. "I wish … I wish I hadn't."

"Was it easy?"

She nodded, tears dripping off her chin onto her dress. "Yes," she whispered.

"Well, I'm sorry about that. It shouldn't be."

"It's easy for you."

He was ashamed to find he was nodding. "Yeah, well, that's 'cause I'm a _hwoon dahn_."

"You're not."

"River, I know what I am. Might have been different once, but what I am now is this. Nothing else. And you're crazy if you want anything to do with me."

Her lips twitched. "The general consensus of opinion is that I'm not actually in my right mind, you know."

"That mean you're crazy?"

"It does."

He grinned. "Then I figure that's okay, then." She was trembling, her thin dress fluttering in the light. "You cold?"

"A little."

"Come on." He held out his arm.

She scrambled into his embrace, reminding him so much of her little niece in the way she avoided his hurt, then it hit him that this was River, a grown woman, her lithe body against his, curled around him, her hands clasped together tightly in her lap. He held her close, feeling his body begin to react.

"No," she said quietly. "It's not time."

"Hell, I know that, darlin'," he said, managing to sound like himself. "Can't enjoy it if I ain't fit."

"I'm not ready."

His voice softened. "I know, moonbrain. Ain't gonna make you do something you don't want. It's your choice. Now and always."

"Still calling me _moonbrain_."

"Well, are you cured?"

She laughed, just a chuckle. "No."

"Then it still applies, don't you think?" He glanced down at her garden. "If I'd'a thought I'd'a brung you some flowers. Started that courtin' you were so keen on."

She smiled. "You're already doing that, Jayne." She reached up to put her hand on his cheek, but remembered she was covered in mud and pulled back.

He snaked out his arm and grabbed her wrist, pressing her palm to his face. "Little bit o' dirt never hurt anyone, River," he said, smelling the rich scent of damp earth.


	4. Chapter 4

Freya came out of the nursery to find Mal facing her. "He's asleep," she said, smiling.

"Good." He didn't smile back.

"Ah." She closed the door and leaned on it. "We're going to have one of those conversations."

"Pretty much."

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll be getting ready for bed while you tell me off." She went to move past him, but he took her arm.

"I'd rather you didn't. We need to talk. Properly. Not with you getting all naked and putting my mind onto other things."

"Don't you have any self-control?" she asked, teasing him.

"Just … don't."

She looked into his blue eyes, at the determination in them, and her forehead creased slightly. She nodded. "Okay. Can I sit down?"

"Surely." He let go and she walked to the bed, forgetting to hold the limp back, lowering herself carefully to the mattress.

He noticed. "It still bothering you?" he asked, letting himself get side-tracked, just for a moment.

She glanced down at her hips. "I'm okay."

"Not what I asked."

"It's getting better, Mal. And I'll be fine."

"Okay. As long as you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"Good." He took a deep breath. "So do you want to explain to me what all that was about?"

"All what?"

"Well, apart from the fact that Bethie said you knew about her … peeking –"

"Mal, that was –"

"I'm more concerned about why you don't want River teaching her anything."

She looked up at him, his arms crossed. "You being captain again?"

"Frey, don't play games with me. Something's going on, and I want to know what it is."

She didn't answer for a moment, just gazed up at him. Then … "Those two men on Ibis. The ones who attacked Kaylee. She killed them."

"She did what?"

"Killed them. It was her."

"I …" For once Mal was stuck for words.

"I've spoken to her, so has Jayne. Just now. I don't think we'll have to worry about it again."

Mal's jaw dropped. "_Worry_ about it? Frey, she killed two unconscious men. Weren't attacking or fighting, or even tracking us. She just broke their necks." He stared at her. "You think I don't have to worry about that?"

"She knows it was wrong."

"Seems to me she prob'ly knew it was wrong when she did it."

"Mal, she's learned her lesson."

"And two men are dead."

"Two men who would have kidnapped Kaylee, to sell her," Freya reminded him softly. "To someone who would have –"

"That ain't exactly the point!"

"Mal, no matter how we feel, we can't any of us go back and change it. What River did was wrong, and she knows it. She's sorry for it too. But she's grown as a result."

"Grown. Into what?"

"It's about control, Mal. It's always about that."

"You keep saying that, but I don't see evidence of it."

"Of course there is. Back on Magdalene, when she …" Freya bit her tongue, but it was too late.

"When she … what?"

Freya looked down at her hands, studying them, noting the graze she'd acquired somewhere across one knuckle. "Well, when she and Hank went to get Serenity, there _might _have been a few guards on board." She looked up, adding quickly, "But she only knocked them out. That was all."

Mal stared at her. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but this was before the murders, right?"

"She didn't murder them, Mal!"

"Tell me another word you'd prefer. Execution?"

"She thought she was protecting her family. You've done that."

"Committed murder?"

"You killed Wing."

Mal felt a hard lump of ice grow in his chest. "Because of what he did to you."

"But you still did it. Just like I killed those men in the camp, because of what they _tried_ to do to me." She stood up, facing him, squaring off. "I'm just saying that we're none of us blameless here."

"Blame …" He took a deep breath, then another, but it didn't help. "And why the _diyu_ didn't you tell me about this?" He was getting angrier. "Thought we weren't gonna have secrets." He stood with his hands on his hips.

"This wasn't my secret, Mal." She tried to close her mind, not feel the rage coming off him in waves.

"And if she takes it into her mind to start carving people up? Like she did on the Marrakech? What then?"

"She won't."

"Can you honestly swear to that?"

"Dammit, Mal, I don't know," she said in exasperation. "You afraid you might have to shoot her?"

He glared at her. "To save you? Yeah."

At his words she felt a strange calmness suffuse through her. There was a reason behind his anger, and she could understand it. Accept it. "Mal, that's what she thought she was doing. Saving everyone else. Now she knows she doesn't have to, that it was the wrong thing to do, and she's moved on. Jayne's helping."

Still he didn't break eye contact, then suddenly pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, almost crushing the air out of her. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She lifted her hands, pressing them against his back. "Don't be," she said as quietly. "Never be sorry for worrying about us."

"About you."

"I know." She buried her face in his chest, luxuriating in feeling him so close, his heartbeat next to hers, his breath in her hair, and felt renewed. She loved him so much that sometimes it was difficult to think of anything else, to be impartial, but this, just being next to him, smelling him, tasting the very air around him, was what she craved most of all. She sighed.

"You okay?" he asked, aware his hands on her body wanted to do more than just hold. They wanted to strip the clothes from her, caress her, run his fingertips across the pale scars and bright tattoo, then take her so powerfully she would moan with delight …

"Shiny." She smiled a little, knowing what was in his mind without having to look. She pressed herself into his burgeoning hardness. "So … am I taking your mind off what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Gorramit …" he groaned, unconsciously rotating his hips against her.

"Mal, don't worry. I'll teach Beth control. And River can help. Who knows, it might do her good too."

"This ain't over, Frey," he said, trying to keep some command over the situation. "You not telling me things … we're still gonna talk …_ wuh de mah_."

"We will," she promised. "Later."

He gave up and let his hands pull her shirt from her pants so he could reach the skin on her back …

--

"Aren't you coming to bed?" Zoe asked, her dark voice low.

Hank turned in the pilot's chair. "Just got a coupla things to do 'fore I turn in."

She stepped closer to him. "Like what? Seems to me we ain't exactly out in the black, so we don't need any course correction."

"Just making sure things are okay."

"I thought that's what the captain did on his last rounds."

Hank shrugged. "Yeah, well, from the sounds coming from their bunk a little while back, I don't think he'll be doing that tonight."

"Ah."

"No, not that." He sighed. "Sounded like they were arguing for a while."

"Any idea what about?"

He shook his head. "Couldn't hear. Not without putting a glass against the hatch."

"And you didn't have one to hand?"

"Damn right." He managed a small grin. "Bet they're making it up now, though."

"Want to go listen?"

"I'm not that much of a pervert."

"No?"

"Well …" The grin widened and he held out his arms. "You gonna sit with me?"

She smiled and eased herself into his lap. "I thought you were busy."

"Busy thinking, more like."

"About Bethany?"

"Mmn."

"Mal's right, you know," Zoe said, putting her arms around his neck. "She's safe here with us."

"Oh, I know that. It was just …" He stroked her hip. "How come she's a reader? I mean, Simon ain't."

"No, but River is."

"But isn't that due to what they did to her at the Academy?"

"She was always gifted." Zoe thought back to the first time Simon had told them about his sister, standing there in the galley, right after the captain had released her from the cryobox … e_verything she did, music, maths, theoretical physics – even dance – there was nothing that didn't come as naturally to her as breathing does to us_ … She explained. "Probably her abilities came out that way. But I think she's right; they didn't make her psychic, just changed what was already there."

"Like Freya?"

Zoe nodded. "Although I think with Frey it was more developed. She said once that her family were afraid of her, because of what she was."

Hank was openly shocked. "But she was just a kid! That's terrible!"

"It is."

"So Ethan's going to be –"

"Not necessarily. Freya was a twin, but her brother wasn't gifted." Zoe sighed. "'Sides, I think Kaylee probably had a hand in it too."

"Kaylee?"

"Her gift with machinery might be classed as psychic."

"You mean how she says Serenity talks to her."

"Mmn."

"So she could have ended up …"

She could feel the shudder run through him. "Didn't happen, Hank. She's down in her room with Simon, and it ain't gonna happen to Bethany either."

"Is this what having kids means?" He stroked her hair. "Worrying about them all the time?"

"Pretty much," Zoe agreed. "Why, you having second thoughts?"

"No." He was very firm. "Never that." He put his hand on her belly. "More'n anything I want us to have a family. Us. You and me."

"So …" she prompted.

"Just … if I worry about Bethany like this, what am I gonna be like with ours?"

She smiled. "It's probably gonna be hell, Hank. He's gonna be locked up in his room for sixteen years just so's we don't have to be concerned he's gonna fall into the compression coil."

He grinned. "Only sixteen. Simon said Bethie ain't gonna have to worry about sex for forty years."

"She's a girl, and he's an idiot." She nuzzled his neck.

"You? Calling our good doctor an idiot?"

"Bethie's got the best people around her, dear. Nothing's going to happen to her. Or ours."

"Good." He sighed as she pushed his collar to one side. "So … was that the general _he_ again? When you were speaking about our baby there?"

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Do you really want to know?"

He returned the gaze. "I … yeah, the truth is I do. Not that I want to do anything crazy like painting the walls pink or blue, or stuff like that, but … Zoe, I'll be happy whatever sex our kid is."

"But?"

He looked a little ashamed of himself. "I want a son, Zoe. A boy." He patted her stomach." I mean, if this is a girl I'll be over the moon. But … a son, Zoe. When we found out the Cap and Freya were gonna have a boy, it felt right. And that's what I'd like for us."

"Do you want to ask Simon?"

"Well …" He shrugged. "Only if you want to know. 'Cause, like I said, I'll be happy either way."

"We'll ask him tomorrow," she promised, and was rewarded by the widest grin she'd ever seen.

"Really?"

"Really." She leaned over and nipped his neck. "Only I don't think we'll bother him right now."

"Why, do you think he's busy?" Hank closed his eyes.

"No. I am."

--

Inara lay in her bed and tried not to look around the shuttle. Virtually everything else had already gone, taken apart and reassembled in her house. _Her_ house. It sounded odd, even to be thinking about it like that.

For so long this small ship had been her home, and by extension the larger Serenity. Even during the months she was away, she still found herself thinking about going _home_, and it was always the Firefly that sprang to mind. Only now home would be bricks and mortar, four walls and a newly-stolen roof …

She sighed and turned over. She'd left the door to the shuttle open tonight, not as an invitation, but just so she could hear anything happening. The ticks and groans as Serenity settled, the occasional ping as hot metal cooled, the faint buzz of conversation from various parts of the ship … She wouldn't have that any longer. Could she cope, knowing that she couldn't just walk down the catwalk and watch them playing ball? Or stroll into the galley to watch Kaylee create miracles with moulded protein? Or just go and sit with Ethan and Bethany while they played quietly?

Bethany. What Mal had said at dinner didn't surprise her. The little girl had obviously inherited her father's intellect, being so advanced for her years, and with a mother like Kaylee … There had been times too, lately, when she'd said things, made little comments about events she could know nothing about, and Inara had wondered if River's gifts had been passed on as well.

It wasn't going to be easy for the smallest Tam, Inara realised. Even with a loving family all around her, she would have to learn to hide her abilities, unless Simon intended knocking them out, like the slavers had done with Freya. No. He wouldn't do that. No matter the look on his face when he realised Mal wasn't joking, this was his daughter, and he loved her. Freya would teach her, as she'd taught River …

Freya. And Zoe. And Hank … she was going to miss them all so much. Even Jayne. This really wasn't the time to be leaving, not with so many things happening. She wanted to see the new Jayne, see what kind of influence River had on him, if there could possibly be anything more to the man she honestly barely knew. And Zoe's pregnancy … she wanted to see her bloom, see her waist expand with the baby, and Hank getting more and more proud. And Ethan was going to be walking soon, and any day he was going to say his first word, and she wasn't going to be around to see it …

If Mal didn't bring them back for regular visits, she was going to get very mad.

--

Simon watched from the doorway to the common area as Jayne and River walked back up the ramp together, not touching, just very close. From behind them he could hear a bird singing, and a separate part of his brain brought up a memory of when he was small, just after River was born, and his mother coming out into the gardens one night to find him.

"_What are you doing out here, Simon? You'll catch your death of cold."_

"_I wanted to see the stars."_

"_You can see them on the Cortex. What do you need to come out here for?"_

"_To really see them." He looked up at her, his face so like his father's. "Did you know some ancient people back on Earth-that-was thought they were the camp fires of other tribes that lived in the sky?"_

"_Really? No, I didn't know that." She stroked his hair._

"_I read about it. They didn't see why they couldn't travel to meet them."_

_Regan Tam smiled. "It seems they got their wish."_

_Simon shook his head. "They died out. Before everyone left. They never got to see it."_

"_Then I'm sorry for them." She looked up. "What's that big red star? Just up there?"_

_Simon followed her gaze. "That's Beatrix. I think it was named after a queen, but … I'd have to look it up."_

"_You can't remember?" she teased._

"_Not everything," he admitted._

"_You will, Simon." She lifted her head. "Can you hear that?"_

_Simon listened. It was a bird singing. "What is it?" he asked, whispering._

"_What do you think it is?"_

"_Birds don't sing at night," he insisted._

"_One does. It's a nightingale, Simon."_

"_Nightingale?" He looked around. "Where is it?"_

"_You won't be able to see it. It's only small."_

"_Why does it sing at night?"_

"_It's calling to lovers everywhere." She laughed at the little shudder he gave. He was so young. "Keats wrote a poem about one. You should look it up."_

"_Must I?" He sounded peeved._

"_Yes. It's good for you."_

_He sighed heavily. "All right."_

"_Why don't you come inside? Your sister is wondering where you are."_

_He gave her a look, one of his special ones. "She doesn't even know me."_

"_Yes she does. She looks for you, Simon. Whenever you're not around."_

"_I … didn't know." He was surprised. To him she was just a crying, puking, smelly bundle, that had no relationship to him whatsoever._

"_She needs you, Simon. To be her big brother. That's a great responsibility." She looked down into his pale face. "Do you think you can do that?"_

_He didn't answer for a moment, pondering things. He'd liked being an only child, his parents always being there just for him, even if they were busy elsewhere a lot. But now there was someone else, someone to take their attention, to …_

"_Simon?" his mother prompted._

_He sighed. "I suppose so."_

_She smiled. "Good." Putting her hand on his back, she pushed him gently. "Now, it's time to come inside. There's a sandwich if you're hungry."_

_He shrugged, his stomach grumbling. "A bit."_

_Regan laughed. "Then come on."_

_He let her take him back into the house, away from the stars, from the nightingale with its trills and cadences, back into the light and warmth. And the smell of a small baby. He approached the bassinet and peered in. His sister looked back, her little pudgy arms reaching up to him._

"_You'd better do what I tell you," he said quietly, so his mother couldn't hear. "I'm in charge here."_

_River waved at him, gurgling softly. He reached in and let her take hold of one of his fingers._

"_I'm in charge here," he repeated, but had a sinking feeling in the pit of his empty stomach that he was lying._

Now he watched as Jayne said goodnight to his little sister and headed towards his bunk, not even a chaste kiss between them. River watched the big man until he disappeared, then walked towards him.

She passed him in the dark, and smiled, her face lit with something he hadn't seen on her for so long. He waited until she had gone through to the lower quarters, sliding her door across.

"Does he make you happy, _mei-mei_?" he asked softly, barely whispering the words.

_Yes_, came the response in his mind.

"Why?"

_Does there have to be a reason?_

He hung his head. "I suppose not."

_Be happy for me, Simon_.

"River …" He swallowed, feeling a tear on his cheek. He wiped it away quickly. "I'll try."

A suffusion of warmth filled his mind, spreading out to his fingers and toes, and he took a deep calming breath.

Hands snaked around his waist, holding him, and a warm body pressed against his back.

"I love you, Simon," Kaylee said.

He turned in her embrace, looking down into her beautiful face, and ran his fingers down her cheek. "I love you too, Kaylee Tam."

She smiled. "I love it when you call me that. Makes me feel all … important. A doctor's wife."

"You _are_ important," he assured her. "Not as my wife, either. You keep this ship running like clockwork. You make everyone feel wanted and happy. You …" He smiled. "You're going to help me get through this, aren't you?"

"I'm so proud of you, Simon," she said, snuggling against him.

"I'll try to be worthy of that," he replied as they headed back to their room.


End file.
